Prithvi's legs pumped furiously, adrenaline and fear surging through him. The two younger wolves closed in, eyes glinting with hunger. His back throbbed where the sun-mark pulsed, and the forest seemed alive around him, trembling with tension.
The first wolf lunged, jaws snapping. Prithvi dove sideways, rolling on the damp earth. Heart hammering, he scrambled to his feet, realizing he had no choice: he had to fight.
He extended his hands instinctively. A column of water erupted—not from the stream, not from the soil, but twisting and forming a sharp, spiraling blade. The first wolf collided with it and yelped, its body slamming against a tree with a sickening crack. It didn't move again.
The second wolf lunged, faster, fiercer. Prithvi twisted his hands, water whirling into a whip-like lash. The first strike snapped its ribs, the second threw it violently into the mud. Its struggles ended with a final, wet gasp.
Prithvi staggered back, chest heaving, staring at the lifeless bodies. His hands shook. His first kills.
A roar split the forest. His stomach sank. The black Raksh-Wolf appeared, eyes burning hotter than ever. Its gaze fell on him, and Prithvi's heart clenched. Anger flared in the beast as it realized its cubs were gone.
Then he saw Aarav — or rather, the sight that made his blood freeze. Aarav lay sprawled on the ground, bloodied, motionless. Prithvi's chest tightened. He tried to run toward him, but the alpha's gaze pinned him in place.
The wolf lunged.
Prithvi flinched, backing against a tree, trying to strike with his water again. Spiraling blades shot out, striking the wolf across the muzzle and chest. It staggered, snarling, but its rage only grew.
Fear clawed at Prithvi. His mind screamed with panic, imagining his brother dead. He had to survive. He had to live.
The wolf circled, massive and furious, teeth bared. It lunged again, jaws snapping just inches from him. Prithvi twisted, flung another sharp torrent of water, striking its flank. The alpha roared, spinning wildly.
And then, like a flash of light through the trees, a figure appeared. Swords gleamed in both hands, moving with lethal precision. The wolf staggered, taken aback.
"Appa(Father)…" Prithvi whispered, eyes wide with awe.
The swordsman didn't hesitate. Every move was a blur, steel flashing, cutting through air and claws. The Raksh-Wolf lunged, and the father dodged, slashing its side, forcing it back. Another strike tore across its shoulder.